


The Cursing Sign

by AndiiErestor



Series: Oracle of Imladris [42]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M, bad translations of horrible expressions into elvish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:27:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28546332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndiiErestor/pseuds/AndiiErestor
Summary: The lessons we learn from our parents aren't always the ones they expect us to learn.
Relationships: Erestor/Glorfindel, Melpomaen/Rumil
Series: Oracle of Imladris [42]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1198450
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Melpomaen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melpomaen/gifts).



“Now, don’t let your father hear you saying that. He’ll end both of us. We’ll be locked inside chopping vegetables or counting sea shells or making candles until the end of time.”

Melpomaen nodded, wide-eyed at Glorfindel. He was torn. Erestor had previously had him dust the entire library by himself as punishment for letting the twin sons of lord Elrond put all the books out of order without informing Erestor. He’d eventually been allowed to leave after a few well-timed sneezes preceded by a cloud of dust, but his father’s suspicious squinting over dinner that night had told him he’d been discovered, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to get out of a punishment so quickly any time soon.

On the other hand, Melpomaen thought, what if the punishment involved copying manuscripts? It was no secret that he enjoyed the task, but it was long and tedious and few took pleasure in such work as he did, and it would be the perfect opportunity for Erestor to pass some of the work onto someone else if he did so. How dearly Melpomaen wanted to read those magnificent histories and copy them in his own script. However, he knew Erestor would be greatly disappointed if he were to ever swear like that again.

So, Melpomaen resolved to never swear in front of Erestor, though he did continue to swear, under his breath, frequently. Enough so that sometimes he had to catch himself nearly doing so out loud from time to time. Until the day he didn’t.

A delegation from Lothlorien was visiting and lord Elrond hosted a banquet to welcome them. Erestor and Glorfindel sat at his side at the head table, while Melpomaen himself sat among the crowd, between two marchwardens – though perhaps closer than strictly necessary in one particular case.

Dinner was a lovely affaire with all guests and members of the house discussing together when all of a sudden, throughout the hall, the din was pierced by a most strange exclamation…

“Vátye puhta as in huo po nostarinya!”

Silence fell. A few elves froze at hearing such words at all, much less from one so young.

There was some commotion at the table, much shuffling and mumbling. At the head table Elrond glared at his most trusted friends, was their son so uncouth?

Then, another exclamation: “Baw puith di’i hȗ odhrenen!”

Now Glorfindel could no longer contain his laughter and nearly fell from his chair so far did he throw his head back, knees coming up to his chest as he did so.

Now the noise in the hall was louder than before as some folk began to protest, though most now also chuckled, though many tried to hide it also. Perhaps the youngling had fallen into his wine. Perhaps it was a game of dares among friends. Though, a single glance at the head table would reveal the truth… Lord Glorfindel was quite clearly the source of this child’s knowledge of the old tongue.

Now Glorfindel excused himself from his husband’s side, still laughing uncontrollably, only for Elrond to turn his attention to his chief counsellor. Erestor did not return the favour, merely eating his meal in a silent semblance of peace. When Elrond opened his mouth to speak, Erestor simply closed his eyes and shook his head serenely – he would speak with his son, and his husband, later. For now, he wanted to enjoy his meal in peace, and he continued to do so when his lover returned to his side – eyes red-rimmed and voice somewhat hoarser than before.


	2. Chapter 2

It was only much later in the evening that Erestor and Glorfindel retired, having stayed late to entertain the large company visiting from Lothlorien.

On their way to the cottage, they passed by the spire-rooms at the far side of the House and knocked on the last door in the corner. Glorfindel held Erestor as his lover leaned into him, waiting for their son to answer.

Inside, some scrambling was heard, and it sounded as though there was an excessive rustling of fabric, before the sound of lock after lock being unlatched followed, and the door was swung open, a nervous-looking elf standing before them, having fully expected this conversation.

“Come in, amya, atya…”

Erestor and Glorfindel let themselves in, looking around suspiciously at the mess. They removed their shoes and replaced them with the slippers they left by the door for when they came by, which were now next to a lovely new pair of boots neither had seen before. Erestor shook his head and gave him a look somewhere between, _you really ought to clean more often_ and _I knew you weren’t allergic to dust._

“You’ve redecorated,” Glorfindel laughed, and picked up a warm, grey cloak from the back of the sofa, folding it and placing it back there so that it would at least not be full of wrinkles the next day.

Melpomaen laughed nervously, “Uh, yeah, I’ve been busy.”

Erestor nodded, _busy cursing up a storm?_

With a slight wince, Melpomaen gestured for his parents to sit with him, though while Glorfindel took him up on the offer, Erestor crossed his arms and stayed where he stood.

In a rare show of signs, Erestor shook his hands before himself, pressed his thumbs and index fingers together, then pointed at Melpomaen before pulling his thumb from his fisted hand.

Glorfindel chuckled before Erestor turned a glare towards him.

“Hey! You can’t just say that,” Melpomaen exclaimed, “That’s just as bad as what I said!”

Erestor simply frowned at him.

“Okay, so, maybe I shouldn’t have said that so loud,” a simple raised brow, “or at all, and I definitely shouldn’t have repeated it even louder… Or at all. But in all fairness, you both curse much more than I do, and I didn’t think anyone would understand what I was saying.”

“These are lady Galadriel’s people. Some of these elves are as old as your amya, and some even as old as myself. The language may not be taught in schools, but it is certainly still studied.”

“Aye, you are correct.” Melpomaen stared at his feet pensively for a moment before looking up at his parents, “I am sorry for embarrassing you both during dinner. I hope everything wasn’t horrible after I left?”

“Everything was fine,” Glorfindel reassured him, as Erestor finally uncrossed his arms and stepped forward to hug his son – and then to flick him on the shoulder in a final moment of disapproval.

 _Everything is fine,_ Erestor’s face seemed to say, then his eyes flicked upwards briefly, before making contact again with his son’s and tilting his head towards the door as he and Glorfindel headed towards it on their way back out, _You should invite your friend over sometime._

Melpomaen’s eyes widened briefly, and his cheeks turned a pale pink. He gaped for a moment and struggled to find the words to say what needed to be said, but a comforting hand on his shoulder told him that Erestor had already understood.

_When you’re both ready._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation notes:  
> I very much do *not* speak sign language, so my descriptions of signs will probably be highly inaccurate.  
> What I wanted Erestor to say here is: what the fuck was that shit?

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any suggestions for how I might make these translations better, do let me know.
> 
> Quenya:  
> Vátye puhta as in huo po nostarinya.
> 
> Sindarin:  
> Baw puith di’i hȗ odhrenen.
> 
> English:  
> (Literal) Do not fornicate with the dog in front of my parent/parents.  
> (Proper) Stop screwing the pooch (just because we're) around my parents.
> 
> French (original):  
> Arrête de fucké le chien devant mes parents.


End file.
